


Against all odds

by orphan_account



Series: Ballad [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Based on a song, Childhood Memories, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:44:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: James plays once again, but this time Robbie really listens.





	Against all odds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purplehedgehog13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplehedgehog13/gifts).



> For purplehedgehog13, because they motivated me to write a sequel.
> 
> Because this was otherwise written purely for my own pleasure, I decided on my favourite singer, Phil Collins; I‘m afraid it clashes terribly with the style of the first song, but the lyrics are quite similar.

James closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. It had been a long day, with two cases at once and a completely unnecessary fight with his new sergeant. He had tried to keep his composure and to show his usual expression of cool superiority; but once he was inside his flat, shielded from a world that expected him to behave responsibly and adequately, James’s mind imploded.

He pressed his palms against his eyes and breathed deeply until he’d found the strength to push himself off the door and walk into his living room to open a window. He watched the trees outside, their leaves heavy with water drops.

It rained.

Of course it rained, it had rained incessantly since Robbie had left two weeks earlier. Maybe it was only James’s imagination but he thought that the evening before Robbie’s departure had been the last time he’d seen the sun.

He shook his head and sat down. He should play something, to take his mind off the man who was sitting on a beach with his girlfriend ten thousand miles away from James. He hadn’t played since the night before…  
What should he play? He looked at his sheets of music, and a title caught his eye. The first time he’d heard that song…

_James opens the door, coming home from school. There’s music emerging from the living room, or „noise“ as he’d call it._  
_Nell is stood next to the record player, singing (or „howling“ as he’d call it) along with a loud, rhythmic tune and dramatically clutching at her chest from time to time._

_James is not good at reading other people‘s expressions, but he is almost certain that his sister’s been crying._

_„Excuse me, could you turn that down a bit? I would like to read!“ he shouts, trying to drown the record out._

_„Shut your face, Boy Wonder. It’s 1989, not the bloody Middle Ages. Some of us are trying to_ live _, you know!“_

 _James doesn’t like to be called that. „I didn’t know that living required crying. Or has Dan binned you-_ again _?“_

_He expects Nell to be angry at him now, but instead her eyes start to water. The record goes silent and she walks over and turns the stylus over. A simple piano tune rings out._

_„Listen to this, little git, this song is about your heart getting broken and you keeping strong and never stop hoping. You’ll need it in your life, because an awkward misfit like you is going to be left behind more than once.“_

  
James stared at the notes for a while, then he started plucking at the strings. He’d never played the song before, but the chords were quite simple and soon he had gone through the piece without the lyrics once. James was still not certain wether he liked the song or not; so when he started to sing, his voice was unstable and hollow.

  
_How could I just let you walk away_  
_Just let you leave without a trace?_  
_When I stand here taking every breath with you, ooh ooh_  
_You're the only one who really knew me at all_

_How could you just walk away from me_  
_When all I could do was watch you leave?_  
_'Cause we'd shared the laughter and the pain_  
_And even shared the tears_  
_You're the only one who really knew me at all_

James stopped. This wasn’t helping at all. He should’ve played something energetic, aggressive, not another soppy ballad. Still, for a reason he couldn’t fathom yet, he carried on, looking out of the open window from time to time.

  
_I wish I could just make you turn around_  
_Turn around and see me cry_  
_There's so much I need to say to you_  
_So many reasons why_  
_You're the only one who really knew me at all_

_So take a look at me now_  
_'Cause that's just an empty space_  
_But to wait for you is all I can do_  
_And that's what I've got to face_

_Take a good look at me now_  
_'Cause I'll still be standing here_  
_And you coming back to me is against all odds_  
_It's the chance I've got to take_  
_Take a look at me now_

  
His voice was shaky once again, but this time it was because he was stifling one of the silent, dry sobs which had shaken him on the evening before Robbie had left. Nevertheless a quiet peacefulness started to flood James, and he was about to repeat the chorus when he heard a loud crash from the hall and startled. Seconds later, before he‘d even had the time to react, Robbie was standing in front of him, stopped dead in his tracks and one hand floating in mid-air; it looked as if he’d wanted to fling himself on James and suddenly lost his nerves.

James’s heart didn’t stop, as the hearts of Victorian heroines so often do when the object of their yearning materialises out of nowhere; instead it just ached.

It was a surreal experience. He sat there, guitar still on his lap, and stared at Robbie who returned the look with wide eyes.

_What is Robbie’s eye colour? The Gaelic language has only one word for blue, green, silver and water. That is what his eyes are. Everything beautiful there is._

„James…“

„Why?“

„James, I—“

„Why, Robbie. Don’t play with me. You went away— I…I asked you to…“

„I know, I know. I’m sorry, I am! Look, I heard you playing on that evening when—“

„You heard me? I never meant for you to…“

„That’s not important now, it’s… God, James, as soon as I was on the bloody plane I started to cry me eyes out.“

For the first time since Robbie had entered the room James took a proper look of his face rather than gazing into the depths of his lens. Robbie’s face was more wrinkled than usual, the soft skin around his eyes red and swollen.  
He looked as if he had cried all the tears James had repressed.

„I went straight into the first pub I could find and there I sat for the next days. I told Laura to visit her family without me. I am sorry James, I thought… that I am not what you need, that I’m bad for you. But this song tore me heart out, you know. Couldn’t stop thinking of you, couldn’t sleep. So I came back, and… No, I am not good with words an‘ all, it’s just…“  
Robbie buried his face in his palms before he looked up and reached out for James, in a terribly vulnerable, hopeful gesture.

„Against all the odds, James?“

It was all too much for James, one second he was pining for a strong Robbie far beyond reach, and now a small and weak Robbie was standing here, in front of him, begging to be accepted.

„Misfit“, Nell had called him. He reached out and folded his shaking hand around Robbie’s. It felt warm and familiar, it felt as if it’d belong there. He looked into the abyss of green and blue and silver.  
_You’re the only one who really knew me at all._

„Against all the odds, Robert.“


End file.
